You Got a Quick Hand, Kid
by it's a placeholder
Summary: The first time Zach ever holds a gun, he's six years old.


**This will end up becoming a series, it's inevitable. **

..

The first time he picks up a gun he's six years old.

Joe always tells him he's much too curious for his own good and one day he's going to get himself in serious trouble if he doesn't stop poking his nose in places where it shouldn't be.

But Zach is only six so he doesn't understand just how serious Joe is being. He doesn't understand that the meetings that go on in the locked rooms on the second floor are about planned assassinations and kidnappings or that when Mother says she's going on a business trip her 'business' involves guns and knives and copious amounts of blood. And he definitely doesn't understand why Joe always tells him to stay out of her office.

But he will understand soon enough.

But for now, his childhood curiosity still gets the better of him, because at the end of the day he _is_ a child. He may be more intellectually advanced than most kids around his age, but he's still only a child and there's a big difference between _seeing_ what's in front of him and _knowing_ what's happening.

And while his mother may deprive him of that innocence any time she can, Joe tries to make him hold onto it as tightly as possible, so he lets him act like a normal kid, but only when he's watching.

On this particular day though, Joe's been missing for the entire day and he's been told not to bother him. And while Zach has an impressive attention span, there's only so much TV he can take before he starts itching to do something else. So that's how he finds himself on the second floor corridor which is normally off limits to him. It's also why when he passes his mother's office and the door is unlocked for what seems to be the first time ever, he can barely contain himself from flinging open the door.

He's always been one of those children who love to do exactly the opposite of what you tell them to do. Joe often looks towards day Zach becomes a full-blow teenager with horrified, panicking dread. In all actuality, he tries to never think about because if this is how Zach is _now_, he doesn't want to imagine what he'll be like when the teenage rebellion stage sets in.

The room looks like any another office when he peeks through the small crack of the door. He glances surreptitiously around the hallway before slipping inside quietly. The office is horrifically barren. There are no pictures or knick-knacks or anything that gives the sense that someone actually spends time in there. The walls are plain white and the carpets are a soft beige colour with no dark marks anywhere.

There's a wooden desk set to the back of the room in front on a foreboding looking leather chair that screams intimidating. There's a bookcase to the left wall and on the right is a fireplace with a set of leather chairs set in front of it. There's coldness to the room that makes him feel uncomfortable and uneasy, like a dark shadow is hanging over him and watching his every move.

Zach creeps softly into the room, looking around with wide-eyes trying to take in everything. He doesn't understand why Joe doesn't let him in here; it's painfully boring and uninteresting and everything looks completely harmless. His eyes pick up a black case of the desk as he scans the room and his interest sudden spikes and he rushes over to it. It looks like a plain black case, but is much smaller than the dark briefcases he sometimes sees Joe and his mother carrying about and even less bulky than the shiny, silver cases he sees once in a while.

Usually when someone brings one of those to the house, his mother sends him to him room or the library and tells him to stay there and play until somebody comes to get him.

With excited little hands, he flicks the latches open and slowly lifts the case open. He frowns though when he looks inside and finds nothing but a gleaming silver gun. He's seen enough guns smuggled in and out of the house to know that this one is different to the others.

Joe always tells him not to touch anything that's not his, especially stuff that belongs to his mother but he barely remembers the warning, too caught up in his own bursting curiosity and excitement.

The metal is cool on his hands when he picks it gently out of the case and his hand drops slightly under the weight – it's much thicker than he expected it to be. Zach knows how a gun works, he's seen them been used before, but he's never been allowed to go near them. He frowns down at it because for all that everyone makes a big fuss out of them, he doesn't see the point. It seems like a pretty boring thing after all.

But just as he's thinking how much more fun it would be playing cards with Joe, the door bursts open and smacks against the wall loudly making him jump. For a second, he thinks it's him mother and the panic settles in so quickly that he barely has time to gasp but when his eyes snap up it's only Joe.

Joe who's looking at him with wide-fearful eyes set against a pale face, chest lightly heaving as he pants softly. Their eyes lock across the room, then Joe's eyes drift from Zach's face to the gun in his hands and his face shutters closed into something close to rage.

'Oh no', Zach thinks meekly trying to think of an explanation on the spot. But Joe doesn't even ask him what he's doing, just marches into the room, snatches the gun from his hands and shoves it back in the case, snapping the latches shut. The silence is practically deafening, that same feeling of uneasiness Zach felt before washing over him again, only this time much more powerfully.

"Joe," Zach whispers, eyebrows furrowed and lips trembling as he tries not to cry because Joe's never been angry with him before and all he wanted to do was see inside, he didn't want to upset Joe at all. Joe glances down at Zach with a look he's never seen before – his face deathly serious, eyes sharp and every part of his body is tensed and brimming with barely concealed anger. But when he sees the fearful look of Zach's face as the rage washes out of him in an instant leaving him with a bone deep exhaustion. He lets out a sigh and his face morphs back into worry.

"Zach, don't ever do that again, you hear me?" Joe asks, kneeling down so that they're at the same height and he can look him straight in the eyes. Zach nods his head vigorously, eyes glassy and red, while chewing on his bottom lip still trying not to break down in tears. Joe lets out a wounded little sound and pulls him into a tight hug.

"It's okay you just scared me," he whispers as the little boy clings to him, shaking in his arms. "Those things aren't safe Zach, you can't just go around picking them up, okay?"

"Okay," Zach replies his voice wobbly and muffled since his head in pressed into his jacket which is now officially damp with tears, not that he really minds. Joe runs a soothing hand up and down the back of his head before pulling away and holding Zach at arm's length.

"Promise me you won't touch one again unless I say so."

And he hopes that he'll never have to.

"Promise," Zach whispers, face blotchy and still obviously upset from the way his bottom lip won't stop trembling.

"And don't go into rooms you _know_ you're not allowed to go in. You know it's not safe." Zach frowns but says in a small voice 'Yes Joe'.

"Good boy," Joe whispers with a small smile and ruffles Zach's hair before getting up. "Come on we can go play cards," he says holding out a hand for Zach to take.

"Poker?" Zach asks hopefully, looking at him with wide pleading brown eyes that could rival any puppy dog or kitten. He drops his shoulders, the tension leaving him slowly as he chuckles at that, hoping that he hasn't somehow inspired a burgeoning gambling addiction in a child.

"Anything you want kid," he says softly, leading them out when Zach rests his much smaller hand in his own.

Joe closes the door behind them, with one last weary look at the case on Catherine's desk. He's going to need to have a serious talk with her when she gets back, one that involves more curse words and threats than really necessary. It's completely ridiculous and irresponsible for her to leave her weapons lying around like that where anyone can grab them, even more so when she's leaving her door open to any and everyone who wants to take a peek inside.

The tugging at his hand pulls him back to reality and he looks at Zach who's trying to tug him down the hall with an exasperated look on his face that he sees far too often on the six year old. He rolls his eyes and let's Zach drag him along without resisting this time.

Until then she does though, he has a Poker game to attend to.


End file.
